Zombie Apocalypse, Oh my!
by Canned-Charisma
Summary: The random tales of the unlucky Smoker, Zard, his best friend, Hunter, his back up friend, Chuck, and their goon like chum, T-Bone.
1. Witch's Colorful Brew

"I hate that Witch." The Smoker muttered absently.

"She's hot." The Hunter next to him replied.

"Your high, Hunter." The Smoker said coughing slightly.

Below the two shuffling on the street was a Witch. Her large claws covered her face as she sobbed. Her hair, that was black cherry red in color, was cut short and spiked out at her neck. She wore a tattered purple tang top and jean shorts. Knee high black and red stripped socks covered her white legs that ended in a pair of purple Chuck Taylor's.

"Whatever dude, we better get moving Chuck and TB are gonna be waiting." Hunter said turning from the edge of the roof.

Smoker nodded, glancing down at the Witch one last time, before following Hunter.

"What took you guys so long? You know I hate being on watch duty." The Boomer, known as Chuck, asked.

"Lost track of time, it was too cloudy to see where the sun was." Hunter stated, adjusting his red hoodie.

"Well, TB's already here so it must be midday." Chuck said pushing a dumpster from a apartment building. A large opening appeared once it was gone.

The three disappeared into the opening. The last one in pulled the dumpster back in front of the hole, keeping the hideout secret.

"Good to be home." The Smoker muttered sitting down against the wall.

The large mass of muscle that was standing near a large hole in the wall nodded as best he could.

"Oh that reminds me! You know downtowns market place?" Chuck asked eagerly.

"Yeah with the fountain in the middle."

Another forced nod.

"What about it?"

"I saw this chick there. Kinda odd looking, don't know what kinda infected she was, but she was as hot as the weather!" Chuck rambled to Smokers displeasure. "She even found this cool shirt for me."

Smoker looked at Chuck's new shirt. It was black with a weird red symbol on it, under it were the words, 'For the Horde.'

"I can top that story. Zard and I saw this hot Witch walking down the street. Had the weirdest clothes I've ever seen." Hunter said smirking.

"God dude, she wasn't hot." Zard muttered, "She's annoying as hell."

"What do you mean?" Hunter asked.

"She's always just everywhere! I mean I go Downtown she's in Downtown. I go to Burger Tank she's at Burger Tank. I hunt down a survivor she's already crying her eyes out near it!"

"Your being paranoid."

"Whatever…I'll prove it. Tomorrow were going to Burger Tank. If she's there I get to beat the shit out of you." Zard said before adding, "All of you!"

"Deal if we can do the same if she ain't there." Hunter snickered, holding out his hand. Zard took it and shook.

"I hope she isn't there." Chuck commented. TB, nodded in approval.

The group of four waited inside the local Burger Tank. Except for TB who stood outside, arms dangling from the window next to the booth, closest to the door. Zard watched as different special and common infected entered and exited.

"So where is our colorful Witch Zard?" Hunter asked smirking.

"Shut up, she'll be here just wait." He muttered watching the door.

A few moments later a soft sob came from outside. Slowly and robotically the odd Witch appeared, wiping her eyes as she entered.

"Oh shit." Hunter mumbled watching the Witch with Zard.

Zard glared the Witch down as she passed.

She glanced down at Zard quickly before looking straight forward. A worried look crossed her normally tearful face. She hurried towards the main counter, not looking back.

"That was weird…" Chuck whispered.

"What I fucking tell you? That bitch follows me everywhere." Zard hissed.

"First off, Zard your retarded, second that was weird." Hunter said pointing at Zard.

"How am I a retard?" Zard demanded.

"Dude that Witch digs you." Chuck snapped his voice well above a whisper.

The Witch looked back from the counter, blushing as red as her hair, a soft drink in her clawed hand.

Zard just looked from Chuck to Hunter, briefly to TB, then to the Witch.

She came up to there table and gave a blank stare. Eyes glowing red.

"Can you please stop following me." She asked pointing at Zard with a clawed hand. She turned to leave before throwing her soft drink at Chuck.

"Hey my new shirt!"

"Your lucky my boyfriend died at the docks or I'd get him to rip all of you a new one." The Witch said sadly, exiting the Burger Tank.

"So…technically none of us won our bet…does that mean we can all kick your ass, Zard?" Hunter asked, shrugging.

"I hate you…"

It was a long miserably walk back to the base. Chuck constantly complaining about his now 'soiled' shirt that his 'maybe girlfriend' gave him. Hunter trying aimlessly to kick Zard's ass while they walked. TB grunting angrily at everyone. And Zard, who was quite for once.

"Question, why would a sweet little Witch like that, have to threaten to get her dead boyfriend to rip you a new one?" Hunter asked as they came to the alley that housed the base.

"I don't know, probably saw we had TB and got skittish, Witch's can't take on Tank's." Zard muttered, pulling a case of cigarettes from his jacket pocket.

"Do you think she meant the Docks here? We could probably find her dead ex." Chuck stated pointing towards Downtown and the Docks.

"Yeah, Zard lets see if you could have taken him." Hunter smirked.

"Fine whatever." Zard muttered, lighting up a smoke.


	2. Speak of the Devil

"Great zombie Jesus, what in the hell is that thing?" Hunter asked as the four entered the Docks.

A large pale corpse of a Tank lay near a red freight car. Leather restraints were around its wrists, wrists covered in blood. Its head was shaved in a buzz cut, it wore tattered jean shorts, and had a Marine tattoo on its chest.

"Zard…I'm telling you this as a friend." Chuck put his hand on Zard's shoulder as he spoke, "Stop following odd Witch's or their Army undead dead boyfriend Tank's will not only kick your ass, but possibly rip your legs off and beat you with them."

"That's the Marine symbol, dumbass." Zard snapped, smacking Chuck's hand from his shoulder.

"Whatever you get my point." Chuck muttered, crossing his arms.

"I'm not following her!" Zard hacked out the sentence.

"Zard you gotta face the facts, we don't care how much you love her, she will never go for you. I think its because of your disgusting face." Hunter said poking the dead Tank with a stick.

"You're a bitch, I think I hate you more and more everyday."

"Good my job here is done."

"This has got to be the only place she won't find me." Zard muttered to himself as he sat on the roof of the apartment building that housed the base.

It over looked the Docks, so when the sun set it casts orange rays onto the water. Besides that it gave a nice view of Downtown. If you squint you can see Burger Tank a little past Downtown.

Right now it gave a fantastic view of some survivors trying to brave down town.

Zard watched them weave in and out of the alleys taking down commons as they went. One stopped suddenly and shinned its light at an alley.

"Lights off!" One of them shrieked.

"Oh no…" Zard through looking around.

Sure enough crying echoed through the alley across from him. To his displeasure a black and red garbed leg poked from the opening.

"She's walking right towards them." Zard realized, franticly looking around. Hoping there was another alley she could hide in.

There wasn't and in a few turns she would meet the wrong end of a chrome shotgun. Zard had to do something. No one, not even weird Witches with dead undead Marine Tank boyfriends that are everywhere you are, deserves to die.

"I'm going to hate myself for this…" Zard muttered, before standing on the ledge of the apartment complex.

He hacked out a cough before shooting his tongue across the alley and right around the weird Witches waist.

She let out an ear splitting scream before she was pulled up the apartment complex wall. Once she got there she saw the group of survivors that would have ended her.

With one final tug, Zard got her up to the ledge. Letting her land next to him, he coughed trying to pull his tongue back in.

"Y-you saved me?" She squeaked as she ducked behind the ledge.

"Yeah well…survivors, what are you going to do?" He muttered not looking at her.

She nodded before turning towards him, "Whats your name?"

"Zard."

"Like Lizard?"

"Yep."

"Socks."

"What?" Zard looked at her oddly.

"My name. Its Socks." She said nonchalantly.

"Oh…so Socks." Zard paused for a moment, taking out a cigarette and lighting it, "Why do you follow me?"

"I thought you were the one following me." She said, wiping her face with the back of her hand. Blood smeared her cheeks, "I think your friend is my cousins boyfriend."

"Who Chuck?"

"Yeah, with the pony tail. He doesn't look right to me. I don't know what Heather sees in him." She said, attempting to pull her sock up with her claws.

"That explains it." Zard muttered taking a drag.

"Explains what?" Socks asked looking away from the smoke.

"Your cousins a Spitter isn't she? I've seen her hanging around the places Chuck hangs out." Zard said putting the cigarette out.

"Oh I get it, She's been making me go to weird places with her. Your always hanging out with Chuck. I see how you thought I was following you." She said tilting her head to the side, "But how come you only noticed me and not her?"

Zard was silent, he had asked himself the same question.

"I guess I just liked you more."

"That's sweet of you."

They talked into the night, the sounds of gun fire and screams of terror and anger were their white noise.

"Well it was nice to meet you Zard, but I gotta go. Heather has this shop Downtown that she lets me work at." Socks stood up and stretched, wiping newly formed tears from her eyes. "Maybe we can meet up at Burger Tank at midday?"

"Sure, bye Socks." Zard said also stretching.

"Bye Zard." With that she disappeared through the door leading to the stair way.

Zard smiled to himself as he watched the sun rise.

The door to the stair way opened again, without turning Zard began to speak.

"You know what Socks, I think I really do like you a lot."

Someone behind him snickered.

Confused Zard turned and glared.

"I knew you liked that Witch, your face doesn't disgust her after all." Hunter sneered.

"I fucking hate you."


	3. Jockey Races

"So Zard you meeting up with Socks Friday or can we go watch the Jockey race together?" Hunter asked picking at his rabid cow burger.

It was a lazy Summer day, too hot for survivors to brave past the cold metal of the safe room doors. Even the infected were walking more zombie like in the Georgia heat then usual and Hunter and Zard were spending it at Burger Tank. Thankfully the only place that still had working air conditioning and freezers.

"There's a Jockey race this Friday?" Zard asked, holding his soft drink with his tongue as he dug around his pockets for a cigarette.

"Yeah Miguel gave us some tickets so we can go. Fresh batch of survivors got captured Wednesday." Hunter said devouring his rabid burger.

Before Zard could reply Chuck ran through the door, looking around franticly.

"There you guys are! I've been looking for you!" Chuck panted sitting down at their booth.

"Why whats going on?" Zard asked forgetting about his smoke and slurping up his drink.

"I don't know what happened, man. I just don't! I was walking back from Downtown and this little…thing! Ran at me, jumped me, kicked my ass and ran away." Chuck stammered.

"Chuck slow down your rambling!" Hunter snapped, slapping the back of Chuck's head.

"Some little thing beat me Hunter!" Chuck said, pointing to a black ring around his right eye.

Zard and Hunter gave Chuck the same blank, uninterested look.

"So anyway, yeah Hunter I can tell Socks I'm busy Friday to catch the Jockey race."

"Nice dude."

"There's a Jockey Race Friday?"

"Hola me amigos, como estas?" Miguel snickered as the group of four entered the Jockey race track.

Miguel was considered a 'God' amongst Jockeys. From his Spanish tanned skin to his black hair slicked back into a pompadour. And lets not forget his, charismatic attitude.

"Hey Miguel, who are you riding this week?" Hunter asked giving Miguel an awkward bro-hug due to their very different heights.

"Some poto with a blue hat." His thick Spanish accent was not lost during infection.

"Better win this dude, I had to cancel on this girl to be here." Zard muttered, smoke in hand.

"Zard finally got some ass, huh?" Miguel laughed.

"Yeah some hot Witch, but that's besides the point." Hunter informed, smirking as Zard glared at him angrily.

"Miguel what does 'poto' mean?" Chuck asked, cartoon of nachos' in hand.

"Means bitch." Miguel stated, giggling.

A grunt from T-B brought the group back to their surroundings. He nodded towards a small figure strutting up to them. No bigger then a Jockey but just as jacked as a Tank.

"Holey shit that's the thing that beat me up!" Chuck exclaimed hiding behind T-B.

"Who Miker? Little chico is loco." Miguel chuckled, "But he's a good guy."

"Hey Miguel look at this," Miker said, ignoring everyone and flexing, "Could bench press a Witch with this thing."

"Si si, Miker meet Hunter, Zard, gordo and T-Bone." Miguel said pointing to each, laughing.

"Hunter, Smoker, Fat-ass, and a Tank." Miker sneered, "Good to see a Tank alive, most die like women on the streets. Unlike me!"

Zard glared at the arrogant thing, "What exactly are you?"

"Pygmy Tank, I'm strong, brave, and sleep with your mother for laughs."

"I fucking hate you."

"Dude stop being a douche and cheer up, the race is starting!" Hunter muttered nudging Zard's shoulder.

They were sitting in the front, the best seats for watching these types of races. Chuck gorging himself on nachos and soda. While Tank clutched three bets in his large, ham like hands.

"No, that little Tank pissed me off." Zard snapped, smoking three cigarettes at once.

"I can see your on edge, whats wrong? Did the Tank like…emasculate you?" Hunter suggested, ignoring the angry irritated glare from T-B, who for once was paying close attention to the loud speakers.

"Shut up Hunter!" Zard growled.

"And their off!" The speakers screamed and the crowed cheered as Miguel and three other Jockeys booked out of the cadges. Each atop their own survivor.

"Wow that Charger's loud!" Hunter commented pointing to the booth that housed the Speaker.

"Wow Miguel's like falling off his survivor!" Chuck said, between mouthfuls.

"Yeah…dude that guys going super fast!" Zard said watching Miguel fight for control.

"Something's wrong!" Hunter yelled, standing from his seat.

It was too late, Miguel fell off his survivor a few meters away from the finish line.

"Madra de dois!" He snickered rubbing his head in pain.

"Folks it looks like Miguel has taken a tumble and is disqualified!" The speaker roared.

Another Jockey on top of a large black man rushed across the finish line.

"Bill Dozer and his mount Coach-Copter have won!"

T-B roared like a mad man, tearing up his tickets and punching a hole in the bleachers.

"I can't believe I missed a date with Socks for that." Zard groaned as they sat with Miguel in the locker room.

"My first losing race…that is what I can't believe." Miguel chuckled miserably.

"So Zard you finally admit you date her, instead of 'hang out'" Chuck commented triumphantly.

"Miguel just lost the sport he was a god at Chuck, for once this isn't a good time to fuck around with Zard's life!" Hunter snapped, slapping Chuck's head.

"No I just mean now me and Zard could like double date with Heather and Socks." Chuck explained.

T-B rolled his eyes at Chuck and, as gently as he could, patted Miguel on the back.

"I don't get it guys. I checked that survivor myself, he ran normal speed but on the track? He was insanely fast!" Miguel muttered, giggling slightly.

"I smell tampering, tampering most foul." Hunter growled, pointing at Miker.

He entered the locker-room, a plastic bag in his hand.

"What are you weaklings, and Tank looking at?" He barked, hiding the bag behind his back.

"Oh nothing…" Hunter paused looking from Chuck to Zard, nodding to both.

"Jump him!" Miguel sneered, laughing like a mad man.

"Get away from me, commies!"

"T-B grab him!"

Royally pissed off, T-B grabbed Miker by his long raven mane and held him up. Miker dropped the bag, two adrenalin shoots rolled out.

"You little poto!" Miguel cried, twitching and laughing.

"I needed the money!" Miker screamed, losing his tough façade.

Zard walked up and punched the Pygmy Tank in the stomach, "How much money did you get?"

"A Hundred bucks!" He cried, cringing at the blow.

"Guys I don't have a hundred punches in me, we'll take turns!" Zard smirked, throwing another punch.

"Cool this'll make up for our 'kick each other asses' bet." Hunter said smiling, moving around Miker. Chuck and Miguel joining in the violence.

"No!"

The Pygmy Tanks cries, angry yells and random Spanish phrases echoed from the Locker room.


	4. Heat waves and Duct tape don't mix

"God, I hate the heat!" Zard complained laying on his stomach, getting as close to the cool cement ground of the apartment basement that was their base as he could.

"Don't try shredding off your clothes, it doesn't work." Hunter muttered pulling bits of duct tape from his claws.

"I'm not an idiot like you, dude." Zard said, hacking up a cough.

Before Hunter could retaliate a shrike echoed from the Alley.

Zard threw a cautious look at Hunter as the large dumpster that blocked the entrance of their base was tossed aside. As if it was a recycling bin.

The silhouette of a girl shinned through the entrance way, sobbing loudly.

"Its hot!" Socks cried, rushing inside.

"Zard your girlfriend broke the door!" Hunter whined crawling away from the shining sun that leaked through the hole.

"Shut up Hunter," Zard turned his attention to Socks, "Did you walk from Downtown to here?"

"No, I'd have stayed in Downtown! Its too hot to move around out there." She sobbed, sitting herself down next to Zard, "I was at Burger Tank."

"Was Chuck still there with T-B?" Hunter asked, a piece of duct tape stuck to his shoulder.

"Yes they were with my cousin." She paused wiping her eyes, "They were talking about heading to the docks to swim."

"So you rushed here to tell us?" Zard suggested.

"Dude I love how your all nice and shit when you talk to her but you're a total douche when you talk to me." Hunter commented.

Zard ignored him, waiting for Socks to answer.

"No I…I didn't want to go!" She paused, crying softly, "Chuck told me you'd be here, I thought it must be cooler then outside so I came."

"Please, its sweating balls in here." Hunter commented smirking at Socks disgusted look.

"Shut up Hunter, listen Socks I think it would be good if we all could go and beat the heat at the docks." Zard said coolly.

"I don't like the docks…" She muttered miserably.

"Hey if my Tank like boyfriend got murdered there I'd hate it too."

A low blow.

A low douche bag blow from an asshole of a hunter.

Who can't even pounce at survivors from a two-story building.

The bastard.

Tears streamed down Socks face as she wailed like a banshee. She turned to charge at…

The door.

She gave a battle cry that may as well have given Hunter a heart attack and she just ran away.

It's a wonder any of the misfits Zard hangs out with were still alive.

"Holy fuck shit dude! She's insane."

"You're an ass clown, I'm duct taping you to T-B!"

"Get away from me!"

"So Socks didn't wanna come? Oh dang I should 'ave told her that Travis' bodies gone now. Well shot." Heather sighed, her Southern Bella of an accent rang perfectly through the miss part of her jaw.

"Travis the Tank? At least our Tank's names sound Tank-ish." Hunter muttered, his back duct-taped to T-B's shoulder.

Grunting in disapproval, T-B shook his head, 'No'.

"Shut up you ass clown." Zard snapped.

"Ass clown? Whats an ass clown?" Chuck asked looking as confused as ever.

"An asshole who thinks he's a fucking clown. Fuck I hate those women like clowns." Miker muttered, destroying yet another of T-B's sand cities.

"The fuck? When did you get here?" Zard questioned.

"Please this beach is mine, Japanese Porn monster looking guy, whose name I've never bothered to learn." Miker throw a shell at Zard as he spoke.

"Zard this is Socks younger brother, Miker. I take it you met the little comedian?" Heather mused, adjusting what everyone hoped was a bathing suit bikini top. A bikini top that only suspiciously looked like a bra. Dear God it better be a bathing suit top.

"That's right, Socks is my flesh and blood sister. You fuck her up I fuck you up." Miker threatened standing at his, small, full height.

"Is that a threat?"

"No a promise, Porn face."

"I fucking hate you…" Zard muttered, both shooting death glares at their opponent.

"Didn't we kick your ass with a sock filled with a bar of soap in a dirty Jockey locker room?" Hunter commented casually.

"I can't believe they kicked us out T-B. Must be something you said." Hunter sighed, arms behind his head.

T-B grunted angrily and pulled a small note pad and pen from his back pocket.

"No shit you can write?" Hunter asked, trying to see past T-B's head to see what was being written down.

T-B finished and held the pad to Hunter.

"For the last time, you annoying prick, you piss everyone off. It truly is a wonder that your still alive. I think everyday I get a bit dumber just from listening to you ramble just to hear yourself speak." Hunter read it out loud and slowly.

Painfully slowly.

He even stumbled over the big words.

"Well T-B you're a dick, so…yeah." Hunter muttered angrily.

T-B took the notepad away and jotted something down.

"My name is Frank."

Hunter re-read the sentence.

"No way…Frank the Tank…dude, yes!"

T-B face palmed in his massive ham like hands, grunting angrily at the annoying Hunter behind him.

"I found Socks guys, she was hiding in between a Burger Tank and that little ice cream place." Zard called, leading her towards the small bonfire at The Docks.

"I hate you!" She sobbed.

"Socks sweetie, its ok! That asshole won't hurt you anymore you know that." Heather said, hugging her sobbing cousin.

"Asshole hurt you? Wait what?" Zard asked, confused.

"Porn face you ass clown, that douche branch Travis beat the shit out of Socks in life. Why in the hell do you think she's crying her eyes out in un-death?" Miker demanded.

"Stop calling me that! Besides I just met Socks like a week ago." Zard snapped.

"Porn face just get out of here. No one wants you here right now. Leave before I kick you to the Japanese factory that recycled you and back." Miker snapped back.

"That doesn't make any sense!"

"No it makes so much sense your small brain can't handle the truth."

"Ok I'm leaving now…"

"Hey Zard you just missed the best bonding two guys duct-taped together could share." Hunter muttered trying to wiggle out of the duct-tape.

"I don't care dude…"

"Did you know T-B's name is Frank?"

"…Really?

Two awkward unison nods.

"No shit, at least I learned something useful today…"


End file.
